


Five Things Allen and Kanda Didn't Do For Lavi's Birthday (And One Thing They Did)

by fallia



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-17
Updated: 2008-02-17
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:27:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallia/pseuds/fallia
Summary: A scarf seems dangerous, like something a thoughtful wife would give her husband.





	

**1.**

"Flowers?"

Allen frowns. "And what's so wrong with flowers?" Then he winces a little bit, but it turns out that the issue is not at all what Allen thought it was.

"Lavi doesn't care about flowers. They just wilt and turn into trash anyway. Cutting things tends to kill them, in case you hadn't noticed."

Allen looks anguished.

Kanda rolls his eyes. "Leave it to you to work up a guilty conscience about the countless flowers you've no doubt killed before their time."

"A... geranium, then, or something? In a pot?"

Kanda's head twitch is far more effective than an actual shake of the head. "Besides. He... "

Allen raises an eyebrow.

Kanda fidgets. 

Kanda never fidgets. It must be something very profound that Allen has never learned about Lavi. Something revealing. Kanda isn't good with that sort of thing; he doesn't like giving things away about other people any more than he does about himself. Allen leans forward in anticipation. "He what?"

Kanda clears his throat. "Flowers make him sneeze uncontrollably but he can't stop smelling them. It's a stupid compulsion." He scowls, as if the insight has physically pained him. Allen hides the grin that threatens to slink across his own face. Then one corner of Kanda's mouth spreads up into a smirk. "Maybe we should get him the flowers."

Allen frowns again. "No flowers," he says quickly. "I'm sure we'll think of something else."

 

**2.  
**  
"A new scarf?" Allen repeats.

Kanda shrugs and his eyes slide away from Allen's, slitted and uncharacteristically ill-at-ease. "It's practical. The one he has - have you looked at it? It's a disgrace."

Allen has always thought that Lavi's scarf had some character. A bit symbolic, in a way, of all their struggles. By the time he has finished explaining his ideas about Lavi's scarf, Kanda's eyes are like flint.

"You've certainly thought a lot about Lavi's scarf," he remarks.

Allen tries to think of something of Kanda's that he's considered as carefully. Something that isn't utterly obvious, shallow, or ridiculous-sounding. Allen thinks about the places on Kanda's palms that are calloused and worn: _courage of body, courage of mind_ , a gypsy woman had whispered to Allen once long ago, touching those same places on one of Allen's own small hands while he sat with the other hand firmly wedged under his thigh.

Kanda's expression goes from stony to icy. 

Yes, utterly ridiculous-sounding. "Sorry," Allen mutters at last. Kanda scowls.

Then Allen imagines telling Lavi it was Kanda's idea. A scarf seems dangerous, like something a thoughtful wife would give her husband.

Lavi would probably relish that idea quite a lot, and it is high time Allen changed the subject anyway. 

"Are we going to knit it ourselves?" he asks. The perfectly straight face and the touch of earnestness in his tone are enough to convey the message he knows would otherwise best be not conveyed at all.

Kanda stares at him, eyes widening, and then huffs. "Forget it," he says through his teeth. "We'll think of something else."

 

**3.**  
  
"Are you stupid?" Kanda says. "He's enough of a deviant on his own. He doesn't need you corrupting him further."

"I'll just save it for Cross's next birthday, then," Allen sighs, tucking the book back under his mattress. "I don't think he's ever seen this one."

Kanda's head tilts at a formidable angle, his eyes narrowing. "Where did you get that anyway, and why is it under your bed?" 

"Um," says Allen. He smiles brightly. "You said you had another idea. You should tell me about it."

 

**4.**

"And what?" Kanda asks, his voice low and ragged in Allen's ear.

"And," Allen gasps, squirming back against Kanda, "and – oh God – and."

"And?" Kanda prompts, and tightens his grip on Allen's wrist.

"And you are not a romantic at heart," Allen manages all in one breath, and Kanda relents, letting go of Allen's arm and reaching for his cock instead. Allen moans.

"And?" Kanda asks again.

Allen's entire body hitches and Kanda thinks he'll get Allen to finish the extended and well-deserved apology Kanda is wringing out of him later.

"And," Allen murmurs into Kanda's neck afterwards, "who really needs romance anyway?"

Kanda opens an eye. That is exactly the sort of idiotic question that fools who live for romance ask, but he has no desire to give voice to that thought. "I did not suggest Paris because it is romantic," he says, and when Allen lifts his head to protest Kanda continues. "I suggested it because Lavi likes looking at the French girls and they leave him too slackjawed to make an idiot out of himself by talking to them." He mulls that last bit over again briefly. "Mostly," he adds. 

Allen snickers. "You'd take Lavi all the way to Paris so he can stare at French girls? I thought you hated it when he does that."

"No point in glossing over it. That's what will happen anyway," Kanda mutters.

"Oh. Right. You're just being a, um. A pragmatist."

Kanda lets the doubt in Allen's voice go ignored. "Yes," he says. "And I am asleep now, so shut up."

 

**5.**  
  
"It's perfect. You get to stab things. I get to, um."

"Taste them?" Kanda suggests. "Be completely counterproductive?"

Allen just looks at him.

"Relive your Indian childhood?" Kanda tries to keep the sarcasm out of his voice and fails.

"The food was _so good_ there." Allen's eyes go a little unfocused.

This is clearly a terrible idea. Kanda grimaces. "Too many spices."

"It's just meat and vegetables," Allen says. "I think they're easy to make. Jerry is going to show us how."

"What could be difficult about meat and vegetables roasted on skewers?" Kanda asks, and the next thing he knows he is in the kitchen wondering how a room filled with sharp metal things could make him so uncomfortable. 

"Wait," Kanda says. "You soak the meat in _yogurt_? That's the secret?"

"Oh, yes," Jerry assures him. "Trust me, these will melt in his mouth. But first the marinade must have some time to _harmonize_." He makes fluttering motions with his fingertips. "We keep it chilled for half an hour to an hour and then we let the lamb bathe in it for four hours."

Kanda hopes that the skewering is a less flowery process.

"Wait, four hours? But Lavi will be back in less than two!" Allen wails.

Kanda sighs heavily. "Christ, Allen, Lavi isn't going to care who made it as long as it's edible."

"I guess," Allen says dubiously. "But I wanted it to be special." At Jerry's expression, he hastens to correct himself. "But Jerry's cooking is just as special as ours would be."

"That depends upon how you define special, I think," Jerry says, and points at the kitchen door with more than a little relief on his face.

 

***

 

One hour and fifty-three minutes later, Kanda's pants are being invaded by Allen's determined hands in Allen's room.

"Shit," Kanda mutters. "You have the worst timing in the world. He's going to be back any minute now, and you - " The tip of his cock disappears into Allen's mouth. His hands are wound in Allen's hair before he can stop himself. "What has gotten into you?" he manages at last.

"Do you want me to stop?" Allen pauses to ask.

"No! I mean. Yes."

"Why?" Allen asks, and then gives Kanda a knowing, sympathetic, and thoroughly infuriating smile. "Are you worried Lavi is going to walk in and see us, you know - "

"Yes. No! Why would I care?"

"Good. I don't actually think he would mind at all." Allen glances over Kanda's shoulder at the door, gives Kanda another stupidly appealing smile, and then focuses his attention on Kanda's dick again.

Kanda wants to say more. He has several things to point out about this, like Allen's utter lack of self-control, and the way his tongue is sliding over Kanda's cock, and those depraved noises Allen keeps making, which should be disgusting but are absurdly intriguing instead. Kanda's head slams back into the headboard. "Fuck!"

"Mmmm." 

Kanda wills his head back up and his eyes open so he can see Allen, who turns his eyes up to Kanda's face for a moment just before he does that thing where he uses the knuckle of one of his fingers. Willpower alone can only do so much. Kanda comes with a shudder and a groan. It takes him a few seconds to gather his wits. His eyes fly open when he hears someone else's footsteps.

"That." Lavi's voice comes out strangled and his cheeks are almost the color of his hair as he stares down at them. "That was quite possibly the hottest and best birthday present ever."

"How long have you been there?" Kanda asks.

"You're welcome," Allen says sweetly.

"Since you told Allen he had the worst timing in the world," Lavi admits. "You can see how wrong you were about that, I think."

"Um." Allen hauls himself up to a sitting position and tugs Lavi down onto the bed with them. Lavi flops down next to Kanda with a smirk. Allen crawls up in between them and says to Kanda, "You've shown me the value of having a backup plan?"

"You planned this?" Kanda demands. 

"It could have gone wrong twenty different ways! It was a long shot but it was worth a chance!" Allen protests.

"Sure was," Lavi murmurs. "I don't see how you can complain, Yuu."

Kanda can't really be bothered to get up and stalk out of the room just yet. Besides, he'd have to shove both of them off the bed. It seems like a lot of effort just to make a statement about Lavi's penchant for voyeurism and Allen's penchant for being sneaky.

"So is it the birthday boy's turn now?" Lavi asks, tugging at Allen's hair.

Allen smiles. "Now Kanda can watch."

"Best birthday ever," Lavi sighs.


End file.
